First Rain of May
by Mark of the Asphodel
Summary: A failed date with Vanessa. A grim telegraph from home. And... a spy caper? Forde rolls with the punches in this little FE8 story about an assassination that went wrong... or did it? A postwar AU set in an era inspired by the aftermath of WWI, written for a gift exchange on the Nagamas 2013 tumblr comm. Rated T for adult themes.


**First Rain of May**

I do not own _Fire Emblem_ or any of its characters.

Written for tumblr user **morriganfearn** for the Nagamas 2013 gift exchange comm.

The prompt was, "An assassination gone wrong, it's up to [characters of your choice] to put it right—or make the whole thing worse. AUs encouraged, particularly if adventurous steampunk shenanigans happen…."

This particular AU is inspired by the time immediately after World War I.

* * *

After the second reel of the motion picture, Forde took his hand out of the popcorn bag. Vanessa only reached in there when she wanted to snack, and any brush of her fingers against his felt nothing more than utilitarian. For the rest of the seventy minutes that _First Rain of May _flickered across the screen, Forde merely watched the way Vanessa reacted to all the tear-jerking moments in the war drama and rehearsed his excuses for the usherette should said usherette object to the vulgar consumption of street food in the lushly-carpeted Royal Theater.

"Oh, that was good," Vanessa said as the house lights came back on.

"I don't know about that. I expected that Fergus guy and that- was her name Karin? Yeah, I expected them to end up together, and instead the story just kind of forgot about them."

"Well, they weren't really important," said Vanessa, and she lowered her lashes over slightly distant eyes, forming that seemingly involuntary expression she took on when she just didn't understand him. And Forde, who'd thought the handsome blond actor playing the role of the warrior named Fergus looked not a little like himself (and that the actress playing the role of Karin looked ever so slightly like Vanessa), arranged his own features into an amiable expression while he went to get Vanessa's coat from the coatroom.

Forde hadn't quite gotten his fill at watching various expressions cross Vanessa's earnest face, though, and he suggested they go for a soda. She accepted with the same casual cordiality that she'd shown when he asked her to the cinema and spent the walk to the soda fountain discussing the various effects they'd seen onscreen.

"What sort of trickery did they use to get the horse to fly? And how did they make those dragons look so real? I can't believe it was all paint and paper."

"I don't know. Isn't a bit of painted paper all _you_ need to get airborne?" Forde was ever so slightly amazed that an actual pilot would be so struck by the winged horse and flying dragons in _First Rain of May_.

"You forgot about the engine," she said, in the tone she took when she thought he was too silly for words. Forde pasted on his brightest smile and held the door for her.

A caramel sundae topped with extra whipped cream and two cherries got him nowhere with Vanessa that night, and Forde returned to his hotel room in the Grand Frelian to find the worst sort of telegram waiting for him.

ATTEMPT ON HIS MAJESTY'S LIFE. KYLE LOST. HOLD YOUR POSITION.

FRANZ.

-x-

When Forde reached King Hayden's briefing room at an hour past midnight, he'd abandoned all thoughts of getting cozy with the most charismatic aviatrix in Frelia. The king and Prince Innes had only vague details of the searing attack of light magic that had taken down King Ephraim's most dedicated knight; Innes in particular seemed rattled enough that he wasn't painting a very clear image of the incident.

"Was the assassin apprehended?"

Prince Innes gave him the look that said, "Oh, it speaks," like a dog had just stood upon its hind legs and issued a request in the Common Tongue.

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"Gradan patriot? Carcinese spy? Revenant under control of dark forces?" The bitterness that underlay Forde's rapid-fire questions went so far past his usual flippancy that the Frelian prince didn't even deepen his scowl.

"A Gradan patriot, in a manner of speaking. My agents there claim the assassin was none other than the wife of General Seth."

"Wait. _Natasha_?" Forde could summon up a vision of the former cleric's serene blonde beauty without any effort, but he had a difficult time picturing her in mid-assault upon Ephraim. "Was she taken alive, and did she state her motivations?"

"She was taken alive," said the prince. "By Her Divine Majesty Queen L'Arachel, no less."

"I bet that was a fun moment for everyone," said Forde. "I take it there's no question that Natasha did it... but why?"

Forde suspected Natasha of no lingering sympathy for the worst parts of the previous regime in Grado; an early defector to the cause of Princess Eirika, Natasha's moral rectitude was thought to be beyond any reproach. It wasn't like Natasha was some embittered shaman or other potential troublemaker.

"I have no earthly idea," said Prince Innes, his cool gray eyes unusually wide. "I've not yet heard what she's said under interrogation."

"I'd like to be a fly on that wall," Forde said.

King Hayden cleared his throat, which Forde took as a cue to mind his own place. The old monarch looked alarmingly frail, like this latest piece of bad news had aged him by five more years.

"Since we don't know why Lady Natasha decided to play the assassin, you are to remain here in the company of Princess Eirika in case any other enemies of Renais should surface here in Frelia."

Underneath these words lay the admission that the vaunted Frelian spynet had come up empty and that none of the crowned heads of Magvel had any idea as to what was going on.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Forde said.

-x-

Staying with Princess Eirika would've been a lovely assignment in Forde's eyes, except the attempt on her brother's life had wiped the joy and sense of fun out of her for the moment. They played cards together, took a walk through the palace to a room filled with antique musical instruments and tried to get a decent sound out of them, and finally just sat around in Eirika's chambers listening to radio plays. In the middle of some ridiculous melodrama about a young man searching for his missing father on some godsforsaken island, Eirika shut off the wireless.

"Your Highness?"

"Innes has an agent in L'Arachel's household. I don't understand why he didn't see the attack on my brother coming."

"Rennac?" Forde replied. "Princess, you don't need to say it, but I'm well aware that Rennac's on the Frelian payroll."

She recoiled a little; Forde winced at the hard look that surfaced in those large eyes.

"Who else is aware of this?"

"I don't know," he said, honestly. "I put it together myself, so I don't think it's common knowledge, really."

"Forde," she sighed. "Rennac's a _spy_. If anyone's aware of his true purpose, then his purpose is compromised."

And on that uncomfortable note, she reached for the deck of cards again, because there really wasn't anything better to do.

-x-

On the third day of the surprisingly un-fun assignment of guarding Princess Eirika, Forde got summoned back to Hayden's war room.

"The situation in Renais has been clarified," said Prince Innes, and he'd returned to his own usual crispness and clarity. "You are to return there immediately as an agent of the Crown Princess."

"So you've ruled out any threats to the safety of Her Highness?"

"We have confirmation that the incident in Renais was unconnected to any greater conspiracy," said Innes. "Vanessa will fly you to the capital under cover of night."

"Sounds grand," said Forde, and as he left the briefing room he did feel his heart stirring with a sense of adventure.

Vanessa's biplane with its gleaming white paint job and _Titania _written in gold script on the fuselage made quite the impression, but Forde was more interested in the armaments. _Titania _featured a pair of synchronized machine guns, lightweight but reliable, a masterpiece of Frelian engineering.

"Guess I'm a tail-gunner now?" Forde said as he put on his borrowed helmet and goggles.

He suspect that Vanessa, behind her own goggles, was rolling her eyes at him.

-x-

Nothing much happened during the night flight except that Forde nodded off repeatedly, but at least he was in fair condition when Vanessa brought them down on the new airstrip at the capitol. By the time Forde reached his destination within the palace, he felt a thrill run down his shoulders as he flashed his Frelian spy credentials at Rennac.

It still took a roundabout game of wits and words with Rennac, which Forde damn near lost on account of creeping fatigue, before Rennac got down to business.

"Our pretty little assassin wasn't aiming for the king."

"What?"

"Your knight buddy wasn't collateral damage. He was the target."

"Why murder Kyle?" Forde was realizing now he was far more tired than he thought, and far, _far_ more angry than he expected to be, and it wasn't a good combination. "Is Lady Natasha out of her mind?"

"Your king hasn't been doing his duties as far as the royal marital bed's been concerned. The honeymoon went well enough, but after his first visit down to Grado, he lost interest in Her Majesty." One corner of Rennac's mouth lifted, and he added, "Of course, one might say that makes the man entirely sane."

"_No jokes_." Forde was beginning to wonder if he made Vanessa as angry as Rennac was making him now.

"What King Ephraim's been doing is taking a lot of trips abroad in the company of his knightly companions."

"Yes, I know. He has reason to travel, given Grado's still a disaster zone."

"Well, as far as our murderess was concerned, King Ephraim took your friend Kyle along for one trip too many, and the way to solve this problem by taking Kyle out of the picture."

"If Kyle was the target, why strike him down in the company of Their Majesties...?"

"She wanted Ephraim to see it. She thought that getting to watch his favorite be consumed by holy magic would be, ah, _beneficial_ to His Majesty's soul." Rennac flicked a stray bit of hair behind his shoulder and added, "Now, I'm not employed to pass judgment on what the King of Renais was or was not doing with one of his _servants_..."

"No, you aren't," said Forde. "Convenient, though. Lay it all on a lone madwoman with no greater political design."

"Convenient, Sir Forde?" Rennac made the title sound like mockery.

"As a _servant_ of the Crown Prince of Frelia, you'll be aware that no man stands to benefit more than Innes should King Ephraim pass without issue. The Rausten alliance that has Frelia uneasy dissolves, Renais goes to Princess Eirika and Innes finds himself a king without even waiting for his father to die- or an emperor, really, since he'd have Grado in his hands then as well."

Forde wondered how long it had been since anyone had rendered the impertinent _soi disant_ merchant of Carcino speechless. After several attempts to form words, Rennac finally managed to get something out.

"All I can say to that pretty piece of speculation is that Prince Innes wants the smoldering mess of Grado in his lap about as much as he wants a nest of gorgons in the castle basement."

"Come to think of it," Forde added, "Given your public front is being Queen L'Arachel's sworn man, you'd get sent back to Rausten with her... and then you'd have her all to yourself."

They stared at one another for a long, chilly moment, and then Forde said lightly, "Of course, that's all idle speculation coming from a fool in knight's clothing, isn't it?"

Rennac appeared to accept this as a legitimate retreat.

"Well, now that you're here, go in there and have your own interview with Lady Natasha. After you're satisfied with her answers, you'll come back here and we'll work on what we tell King Ephraim's loyal subjects about this fiasco."

-x-

If Forde did harbor doubts about Rennac's story, the interview with Natasha crushed them to shards of nothing. Natasha, stripped down to her shift to make sure she didn't have any more tomes or sharp objects on her person, looked like the white-robed and humble cleric he'd seen in photographs of pre-war Grado, but her eyes smoldered every time either King Ephraim's name or Kyle's came up, and she harped on the fact that His Majesty had been "no true husband" to L'Arachel.

After all his business, with Natasha and with Rennac, was done, Forde went to the tavern with his brother, drank the place dry and did his best to forget it.

"It's the worst kind of promotion," Forde said as he clapped an unsteady hand on Franz's shoulder. "But you'll do as good as Kyle in serving His Majesty. Well, maybe you shouldn't try as hard to be good..."

"I'm just glad it was a fit of passing madness. None of us wanted to see Lady Natasha on the gallows," said Franz, who was wringing his hands over her fate when he wasn't lamenting what the whole episode must be doing to General Seth.

"It's an ugly business. In Frelia, they've switched over to the electrical chair, but that's not any prettier..."

And Forde had to stop himself before he did Franz's poor psyche any more damage.

-x-

Forde felt a little surprise on seeing Princess Eirika there in the briefing room on his return to Frelia. He felt no surprise at all when he noticed Rennac sitting on the couch.

The spy had an Aviatrix in his hand; the popular cocktail that honored Frelia's daring lady pilots tasted like violets but looked like a glass of ejaculate. Forde decided he would point this out to Rennac should the other man give him any more lip about Kyle.

Prince Innes congratulated Forde on a job well-handled- an "interview" with the suspect properly conducted, an irreproachable cover story deployed, as many reputations salvaged as anyone could possibly manage. The praise flowed so freely from Innes that when he made Forde an offer, it didn't come out of nowhere.

"You have the perfect cover story for your comings and goings- selling art, buying art on behalf of the Crown, painting your splendid landscapes."

This was all nice, but Forde focused in on the basic math of it.

"Three years off my term of service? That's three years closer to the day when I'm not in a place to be eliminated should someone find me inconvenient. Sign me up."

The princess understood, he thought. He didn't think he imagined the sympathy in her eyes as Innes kept talking.

"Splendid. Vanessa will conduct you to Jehanna tomorrow. There you'll meet up with..."

-x-

Forde was half-hoping he'd get the chance to play tail gunner on the trip to Jehanna, but no air pirates surfaced.

"I was thinking about that motion picture we saw in the capital," he shouted ahead to Vanessa. "_First Rain of May, _wasn't it?"

"That was so good! I saw it again in Renais. I still can't believe how they made that winged horse fly!"

"Yeah. Well, remember how I was annoyed that the girl who rode the flying horse never had an ending with that knight guy? And you said they weren't important enough to get their own ending?"

"Yeah."

"I'm all right with that now," he said. "Being insignificant enough that the world forgets about you is the best kind of happy ending there is."

"Huh?"

Forde didn't answer. He settled back as comfortably as he could and closed his eyes for a nap; he didn't have much longer to steal that rest, as already the white dunes of Jehanna glimmered in the distance.

**The End**

A/N: The film that Forde and Vanessa are watching is based off the plot of Thracia 776; the character Fergus is a predecessor to Forde in terms of design and free spirit, and Fergus has a friendship of sorts with a green-haired pegasus rider that is often shipped by fans but doesn't actually lead to marriage. The radio play Eirika turned off was a dramatization of Eliwood's search for his father on Valor.


End file.
